This week, the Nass previews the new art museum, visits nearby nature, and ruminates on the mysteries of love.
HUM Professor: It's up to your generation to solve these problems. I'm ready to retire and die.
Poetry Professor: You can’t hurt my feelings. Only fascists can hurt my feelings.
Confused Gamer: What's a bugle?
Designated Music Expert: It's a dog!
Annoyed Bridge Year Kid: St. A's people love nothing more than to tell you how they aren't supposed to talk about St. A's.
71-year-old professor: And the entire cast from Friends was in my dream. Joey and I went back to the hotel and… well I'll stop there.
Theater Prof: My friend used to translate Aeschylus–you know the scholar Robert Fagles?
Theater Professor: If you see a small bear, that's my dog Arlo. He once scared Joyce Carol Oates to death.
Comp Lit Professor: What is happening while I'm making love?
Swiftie 1: I think Taylor Swift is for everyone.
Swiftie 2: Bootlicker.
One student: Can you overdose on Gummy Vites?
Nass figurehead: My roommate really wants to flash his butt on this call
Driver: No lanes, just vibes.
Comp lit major, hot chocolate in hand: The Princeton pandemic response has been the clearest case for anarchism that I've ever seen.
Man, to me: You can put your boobie away.
Girl, scrolling through boy's spotify: God, he's [ex-boyfriend] but self-aware, and spiritual. I hate it here.
Dad: Driving is as American as apple pie.
License-less daughter: I HATE APPLE PIE.
Prince Writer: He's writing a novel? What's it about?
Nass Writer: I didn't care enough to ask.
Exhausted sophomore trying to make a point: Yes, Professor, I realize that murder is sort of a character flaw.
Bro: She's got the look of one of like six white girls in one of those flocks–you know, the scary flocks.
First Year Writer: Writing Fiction is kind of traumatizing.